Striking

The difference was striking.

To say they had gone from a hellish scene of squalor and revolting waste to one of opulence and gaudiness was an understatement.

Once Malcolm crossed the threshold, the disgusting smell of the previous part of the city was cut off instantly, replaced instead with a sweet fragrance that permeated the inner city and made it hard not to feel happy.

The very streets were paved with gold and silver, the buildings were of the purest marble, and everything from the clothes the passersby wore to their uptight expressions spoke of wealth and privilege.

Malcolm and Serena had gone from being the most nicely dressed in the city to the most mediocre, which instantly made them stick out like a sore thumb amidst the gold-laced and bejeweled robes of the others.

But paradoxically, their more modest clothes were so uninteresting save for the emblem of Udren City that most of the nobility walking along the streets turned their noses up and didn't give them more than a second glance.

Malcolm's brows furrowed, his thoughts lingering on the mortals just outside the inner city's walls. The streets were literally paved with gold, and yet they couldn't spare any of this for the less fortunate outside?

"Don't think about it," Serena whispered to him. "There's nothing we can do for them. Come, we need to meet the city lords."

"The city lords?" Malcolm asked.

From what he knew, the city lords were the most important people in the city. Would mere diplomats be allowed to see them?

"Them, or their children," Serena replied. "So long as we speak to an Ascended. We aren't here for negotiations, but information. Any of the people walking down the street can grant us that, but it's best to ask the officials."

"Why is that?"

"Because we're here as diplomats, not normal visitors. It's customary for diplomats to speak to those on duty, which these people aren't."

"I see," Malcolm hummed, still unable to take his mind off of all this wealth.

Compared to the conditions he lived under as a farmer, that of the mortals in Vahl City was several times worse just at a glance, and he was certain that the more he learned, the larger this disparity would become.

They made their way to a building set near the center of the city, with large pillars inscribed with dragons coiling around blazing suns and doors thicker than Malcolm.

Serena swung them open with deceptive ease and they strode in. A guard stopped them with a raised hand before they took more than three steps inside, and he gazed at them suspiciously, eyes lingering on their robes.

"What are diplomats of Udren City doing here?" he asked.

Malcolm shifted. This man was in the Torch realm, just like Serena. He glanced at Serena for confirmation, and when she gave it, he bowed slightly at the waist.

"Sir, we are here to discuss with the city officials on duty regarding a troublesome matter," Serena told the man. "Recently, one of our caravans had gone missing, and we wished to know if Vahl City could shed light on this situation."

The man's eyes flickered with an indistinguishable emotion as he stepped aside. "Take the first right, then it's two doors down."

"Thank you," Serena said, giving him a respectful nod. "Come, Malcolm."

The guard watched them go with narrowed eyes, a dangerous light hidden within his pupils.

.......

"Yeah, we did that," said the young man nonchalantly as he leaned back in his chair. "What of it?"

They sat in a small room with just the three of them present. Serena and Malcolm sat in front of two comfortable leather chairs across from the young man in a similar, but clearly higher-quality chair.

The young man in question had brown hair and green eyes, and appeared average in every way except for the bulging muscles of his lean arms.

Serena's expression didn't change, but a cold look appeared in her eyes for a fraction of a second. "Why? Is Udren City to take this act of aggression as a declaration of war?"

Malcolm kept his mouth shut, his thoughts racing. Was Arthur right? Truthfully, Malcolm viewed the irate Ascended as a hotheaded fool at first, but to think that of everyone present, he was the closest.

"Nothing of the sort," the young man grinned. Malcolm couldn't tell if it was supposed to be charismatic or fiendish, because the man was too lazy to add any emotion to it at all.

"Then what?" Serena demanded.

"Calm down," chuckled the young man. "You can consider it… collateral. We were tracking a wild beast, quite a strong one, at that, and in our efforts to take it down, we accidentally destroyed your caravan."

"You *accidentally* destroyed a kilometer-long caravan with hundreds of people and thousands of coins' worth of supplies?"

"Yep," said the young man with a lazy grin. "You can go now. Be sure to tell your daddy what I said."

Serena's lip twitched, but she stood without another word and gestured to Malcolm.

Malcolm stood after a moment of hesitation and followed her out, leaning in close and whispering "I think he's lying."

"He is," Serena said confidently. "But keep such talk to yourself until we get back to the carriage."

They strode past the guard that had stopped them earlier and exited the building, only for their steps to come to a grinding halt.

A crowd of richly dressed men and women were waiting outside, shoving around a dirty young woman with tears streaking down her cheeks. Nearby, an older, equally dirty woman lay on the ground, screaming at the crowd to stop, but they ignored her as they continued toying with the younger woman.

It was only when they started tearing at the young woman's clothes that Serena turned away apathetically, starting down the steps.

Malcolm hurried after her, keeping a close eye on her as they exited the city, but even when they stepped into their carriage, Serena said nothing.

"I see what you mean," Malcolm said with an angry glance at the city walls. "I never complained about my lot in life as a farmer, but only now do I realize how good I really had it."